


leave all your love behind

by snitches_get_stitches



Category: Bandom, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Gen, Rape Aftermath, Sexual Assault
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-25
Updated: 2015-05-17
Packaged: 2018-03-08 23:45:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3227993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snitches_get_stitches/pseuds/snitches_get_stitches
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Josh only claps him on the arm and asks, "Want me to go with you?"</p>
<p>Tyler smiles but shakes his head. "No, " he affirms, squeezing Josh’s hand before tugging it gently off his arm.  "You go with Mark. I'll be fine."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> explicit rape scene here, please back the fuck outta here if you are at all triggered, im not kidding around.
> 
> probably my darkest fic; I'll probably continue it to expand on the aftermath, but I don't know if I have the heart to finish it. im really sorry.
> 
> btw, [this](https://36.media.tumblr.com/6ae600b8302298840ec22f1491f44984/tumblr_nf5q23mjQt1r26hqeo1_400.png) was the shirt i was referring to.

"Shoot," Tyler murmured, squinting in a desperate attempt to see the contents of his backpack in the dark.

"What is it?" Mark asked concernedly, lifting an eyebrow in question but not breaking his pace on the sidewalk.

Tyler, on the other hand, slowed to a stop. "My phone," he answered, frowning. "I think I left it in the dressing room. I can't find it in here, at least." He sighed, trying to dig even deeper into the black hole his bag seemed to be.

Josh sighed. "C'mon, Ty, we were gonna go rent bikes. You wanna walk all the way back _now_?"

"You guys go on ahead," Tyler said distractedly, still searching in vain. "I'll give you a call and catch up with you guys later, okay?"

He looks up at the last part to check for agreement, but Josh only claps him on the arm and asks, "Want me to go with you?"

Tyler smiles but shakes his head. "No, " he affirms, squeezing Josh’s hand before tugging it gently off his arm. "You go with Mark. I'll be fine."

X

He's halfway back to the venue, and just about to give up on his bag having _anything_ he distinctly remembers putting in there, when a lewd voice comments, "Nice shirt."

Tyler jolts and whips around, heart hammering at his ribs. There’s a guy smoking a cigarette, leaning against the weathered brick wall of the mostly dark apartment building that Tyler had just passed. Tyler, amazingly, hadn’t noticed him at all.

But when he sees the way the guy is raising his brows at his shirt, Tyler sighs and rolls his eyes, turning back around and ignoring the judgemental stare he can feel pricking between his shoulderblades. He’s gotten this enough before.

“Whatever,” he dismisses. “Go pick on someone else, okay?”

He’s about to abandon his backpack search and hurry the fuck back to the venue, but suddenly there’s a hand grabbing at his bicep and physically turning him back around. He opens his mouth to say something extremely rude when the guy interrupts, “Hey, seriously, it looks good on you. Certainly grabs people’s attention, y’know?”

“Um,” Tyler says uncertainly, subtly trying to remove himself from the guy’s grasp. The way he’s staring at Tyler is making him more than uncomfortable. “Thanks, I guess...?”

“Oh, come on,” the guy says, and Tyler is _extremely_ not okay with the way the guy is tugging him close, lit end of his cigarette nearly grazing the skin of Tyler’s forearm from where he’s barely hanging onto it with his fingers. Tyler squirms, glaring up at him. “There’s no way a guy like you walking around in _that_ shirt at two o’clock in the morning isn’t looking for some kind of trouble.”

Tyler splutters. “I-- _what_? A guy like me? What’s _that_ \--supposed to mean?--shit, seriously, let go of me, that hurts,” he tugs with a little more purpose against the guy’s grasp, but his grip only gets tighter and Tyler hisses when he feels bitten down nails dig into his skin.

Then suddenly, the guy is swinging him around and slamming him against the brick wall of the apartment complex, and Tyler cries out as the back of his head collides rather roughly with the rock.

“Oh please, don’t play stupid, you fucking twink,” the guys hisses, dropping his cig in favor of grabbing both of Tyler’s wrists and pinning them to the wall, Tyler’s backpack dropping to the pavement. Pinpricks of pain pop up in random places on Tyler’s shoulder blades where the brick presses through the chiffon on his shirt. “Skinny fuck like you, all alone and dressed like some kind of faggot whore in the middle of downtown. Don’t fucking lie, you wanted this to happen.”

Tyler’s still blinking back tears from the possible concussion he just suffered, and he can’t put much together other than the way his brain is screaming _danger! danger! get out!_ at him in glaring red letters.

“Let go,” he manages to mumble out, before some of his dizziness subsides and shoves as hard as he can against the guy’s grip. “I’m fucking serious, let the fuck go of me, I don’t want anything to do with you.”

The guy laughs at that, and Tyler actually has to cough just because of the smell of cigarettes still in his breath. “Right,” he says, and then he’s smashing their mouths together.

Tyler panics, thrashing wildly and nearly gagging into the kiss as the guy thrusts his tongue into Tyler’s mouth, and oh god, the kiss _hurts,_ he’s too rough and their teeth are clacking and his lips are stinging from where they’re practically being bitten through, and fuck, _fuck_ , how strong fucking is this guy, his hands are _burning_ where they’re pressing into Tyler’s wrists.

He finally pulls back and Tyler gasps for breath, heart hammering madly against his ribcage, and the guy has the nerve to fucking laugh at him. “What are you, a virgin? Can’t take a little tongue?”

Tyler stares at him, haplessly, wanting to scream or cry or something but it feels like there’s a rock stuck in his throat, oh god, _please_.

“Please,” he whispers. “Please, don’t, I--I’ll do anything, please,” and he’s never felt more pathetic in his entire life, but he can’t bring himself to do much else other than plead.

“That’s cute,” the guys says. “That you think I’ll actually leave you alone. You’re not going anywhere, sweetheart, ‘cause after this? Your body is going in the _gutter_.”

x

“Tyler’s taking a really long time,” Josh says nervously, rubbing his hands against this thighs in an attempt to wipe off some of the sweat. “He said he was going to call us as soon as he had his phone, right? He should be there by now.”

Mark shrugs, swiping absently at his phone. “Try calling him, maybe he just forgot.”

“Okay, sure,” Josh says, and pulls out his phone, trying to ignore how jittery his heart is.

He dials Tyler’s number and presses it to his ear, every unanswered dial tone making him increasingly nervous.

“C’mon, Ty, pick up,”  he’s muttering to himself, but all he gets in return is Tyler’s voicemail.

“He’s not answering,” Josh says, numbly. “Mark, he’s not answering.”

Mark looks up this time and frowns.”You’re right, that’s really weird. Like, his phone rang? And he just didn’t pick up?”

Josh nods, fingers curling around the edges of his phone.

Mark stands up suddenly, pocketing his phone. “You should go,” he says, firmly. “Don’t worry about the bikes, I’ll watch them, but go make sure Tyler’s okay, alright? Go, now.”

Speechless, Josh nods dumbly before turning on his heels and sprinting back to the way they came.

x

It hurts.

Everything hurts, and Tyler’s crying, and the Swiss Army knife pressed to his neck is drawing blood, and all he can do is stare up at the beautiful night sky and appreciate it as much as he can through the pain, because it might just be the last time he sees it.

“Fuck, _fuck_ ,” the guy is groaning above him, thrusting wildly, and he grabs Tyler’s jaw, forcing his gaze away from the sky and onto him instead, before thrusting his tongue inside Tyler’s mouth again. Tyler just whimpers, too exhausted to do much else. All he knows is that everything is hurting and he just wants it to _end_.

"Fuck, that's hot," the guy manages to grunt out against his throat, and Tyler can't _believe_ the greasy fucking slag is getting off on Tyler's misery.

"You're disgusting," Tyler bravely spits out, because he hardly cares what happens to him at this point.

But the guy just laughs, and Tyler sobs weakly when the guy gives one particularly harsh thrust into him, because oh god, it hurts, it hurts so bad and Tyler's crying in earnest now because he doesn't know what else he can do, when suddenly there's an aggrieved yell from somewhere outside of his line of sight and strong hands peeling his attacker away from him.

Tyler stiffens for a moment, brain trying to process the sudden shift in the situation--the absence of cold steel against his neck, the sudden lack of body heat--and by the time he gains back control of his body and turns his head, he sees Josh pummeling the fuck out of the other guy's face.

"You _disgusting_ piece of _fucking SHIT!_ " Josh shouts, and Tyler jumps at the sound of cartilage snapping, sobbing and turning away, hiding his face in his arms. He's on absolute sensory overload and the only thing he can convince himself to do is try to shut it all out.

He vaguely registers a couple more shouts, a body slamming into the pavement, a clatter and then footsteps sprinting away, but he still jumps when warm hands brush his arms.

"Ty-Tyler? I--Jesus," he hears Josh breathe. He doesn't uncurl himself or lift his head from his arms; he can't. "I--here, lemme go get your pants." There's a moment of silence, and then the rustle of clothing. "I, um, can you--can you put them on yourself? Shit, should I... should I call the police? Fuck, of course I should, you were--"

"No!" Tyler suddenly finds himself shouting, bolting into an upright position. "No, no no no no no, don't--you can't," he spills out, and he doesn't know why he's saying it, knows he shouldn't be, but the thought of calling the cops suddenly terrifies him. Hospitals, police stations, court--he can't, he won't, it would make it too real. He can't, he _won't_ \--

"Hey, hey, shhh, it's okay, buddy, it's okay, I'm not calling anyone unless you want me to, okay? It's okay." And then Josh is hesitantly reaching for his arm with blood-stained hands--Tyler vaguely remembers the sound of a nose breaking--and Tyler shudders away, because he can't deal with anyone touching him right now, he just can't.

"Sorry," Josh whispers. "Um, I have your clothes. I'll look away if you want me to."

Tyler nods at the ground, too ashamed to look at Josh in the face, and numbly takes his jeans and boxers from him. He's still crying even as he wriggles into his clothes, every movement stinging and pulling another whimper from his throat. He hates himself. He hates Josh for seeing him like this. He wants nothing more other than to sink into the ground and simply disappear, but that doesn't happen.

Instead, he's finally buttoning up his jeans and mumbling, "Okay," and watches Josh as he turns back around to face him. He still can't force himself to make eye contact. Jesus, Josh saw--he saw--

"Shh, Ty, Ty, I'm right here, okay? No one's ever going to hurt you again. You're safe now, you're safe with me."

Tyler just shakes his head and cries harder.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i finally got off my ass and wrote enough to post a second chapter... should there be more???? yay or nay???

Tyler wants to disappear.   
  
The undulated pain is gone, but everything still hurts, and even though he knows it's not his fault, shame still burns at him worse than it ever has before. He felt dirty. This wasn't right, this never should have happened, and Tyler can feel eyes on him and all he wants to do is disappear, just _disappear_ , please, all he wants to do is disappear and never have to face anyone again--   
  
"Hey, Ty?"   
  
Tyler pauses in his sobbing--so abruptly that he only just realizes he was crying in the first place, when did that happen?--and turns his head slightly so he can face the curtain of his bunk.   
  
"I... I made some hot tea. And I've got cookies. So if you wanted to come out... I'll be right there, okay?"

 

"Okay," Tyler mumbles, and oh, God, his voice is  wrecked.  "I'll be out--" he had to pause to hiccup, "I'll be out in a sec." But then he suddenly hates himself because he doesn't want to come out of his bunk--leaving his bunk means people looking at him, eyes raking over his skin and _knowing_ and Tyler whimpers before he can stop himself.  


 

"Tyler?" Josh asks, and fuck, Tyler hates himself, why can't he do anything right?  


 

"I'm okay," he hiccups, "I mean--yeah, I'm okay, I just--fuck. I don't even know." Fuck, here comes the tears again.

 

There are footsteps, and then Josh gently peels back the curtain of his bunk. Tyler turns his head away, still unable to met his eyes. "Hey, Ty," he says. "It's okay. Alright? You don't need to explain anything to me. Just do what you need to do to deal with this." There's a pause, and then, "I love you. No matter what."

 

Tyler nods, and the curtain to his bunk flutters shut. 

 

X

 

He waits until he's alone on the bus to call Jenna.

 

"Hey, baby," she greets, and Tyler wants to cry from how relieving it is to hear her voice.

 

"Jenna," he says, and shit, he couldn't even get through one word without his voice cracking. "Jenna, I--something's happened."

 

She's quiet for a moment, and Tyler knows she's thinking about everything that that could mean. "Baby? Are you okay? Where are you right now?"

 

"I'm--I'm fine. I mean," he hiccups, "I'm not, but I'm safe, and Josh--Josh'n'Mark took care'a me okay." He exhales shakily, trying to compose himself. "But something happened,  and, and I--I--oh god, I don’t know how t-to tell you this.”

 

She’s  already shushing him through the phone. “No, shh, it’s okay, sweetheart. It’s okay. You know I love you no matter what right? And you can tell me anything?”

 

“Yeah,” he says, and exhales a shuddery breath. “It’s just--it’s hard for me to say it.” His throat goes tight on the last syllable and he has to force himself to inhale and exhale again.

 

“It’s okay, honey,” she’s saying, and god, he loves her so much. “Take your time, okay?”

 

“Yeah,” he says again, and then, “I--I, um. Someone tried to--someone assaulted me. Like, um, they forced me to--oh god, I can’t say it, I can’t,” he says, and he’s gasping for breath again suddenly, trying to calm the sobs that want to wrack his frame. 

 

And thank god, Jenna seems to understand what he’s trying to get at. “Oh, Tyler,” she says. “Baby, I--are you sure you’re okay? Do you need anything? Is there anything I can do?”

 

“Just--stay on with me for a little bit,” he manages to whisper, voice hoarse, wiping the tears off his face. “I miss you so much.”

 

“I miss you too,” she says, and Tyler cries a little harder.

 

x

 

Josh is angry.

 

He's more than angry, he's fucking  furious , because he can't help but feel like he let this happen. All he's doing is replaying that moment in his head, over and over--

 

" Want me to go with you?"

 

Tyler smiles but shakes his head. "No, " he affirms, squeezing Josh’s hand before tugging it gently off his arm.  "You go with Mark. I'll be fine."

 

Josh shakes his head to clear it. 

 

Fuck. He should've gone with him. He should've  been  there, he should've protected Tyler, he shouldn't have let that disgusting creep  go when he had him at his mercy, he should've pummeled him until he choked on his own blood because no one who did something so terrible deserved to live unpunished.

 

He should've protected Tyler.

 

He jumps to his feet, suddenly, heading to the back room. He fucked up once, but he wasn't going to let it happen again.

 

He was going to protect Tyler this time.

 

He slides open the door without knocking, and Tyler's curled up in front of the computer, but doesn't have it turned on. Instead, he's on the phone, and he startles when the door slams open, then relaxes when he sees it's Josh, letting his gaze drop.

 

He hasn't made eye contact with Josh since it happened.

 

"I should go," he says softly into the phone. "I'll call you later. Love you too."

 

He brings the phone down from his ear and hangs up, before fidgeting with it in his hands.

 

Still no eye contact.

 

"Jenna?" Josh inquires softly, and Tyler nods. There are tear streaks in his face that Josh hadn't noticed before.

 

"Yeah. I had to tell her."

 

Josh nods, even though Tyler isn't looking. He's suddenly at a loss of what to say. He wants to hug Tyler, wants to hold him in his arms and tell him everything's going to be okay, but he's not sure how he feels about being touched by now and triggering Tyler is the last thing he wants to do.

 

"I'm sorry," he finds himself saying, and Tyler's eyes dart up to his, looking at him directly for the first time.

 

"For what?" He asks, and he sounds bewildered.

 

"For not going with you. For not being there when you needed me." He swallows, this time letting his gaze drop first this time, staring at the Dorito crumbs in the carpet. "For not protecting you. It's... It's my fault this happened, and I am so, so sorry," and fuck, his throat's already getting tight and his eyes are definitely prickling, this is not what he had planned.

 

"Josh, what? Josh, no, it's not--it's not. There's no way you could've known, it's my fault, really, I was stupid and dressed like--like I was asking for it, and it--it's stupid, it's my fault, and I won't--it's not your fault, Josh."

 

"You weren't asking for it, though," Josh says, firmly. "Tyler, you weren't, you were screaming. You were hurting. That's not asking for anything, I don't know how--how you can think of it like that."

 

Tyler just shrugged, staring at the floor. "He saw what I was wearing and just... got the wrong idea."

 

"Tyler, you were  crying ," Josh is saying, and he can't believe he needs to explain this to Tyler. "I don't care what you were wearing, he wanted to  hurt  you--"

 

"Can we  please  stop talking about this?" Tyler snaps, pinching at the bridge of his nose, and Josh lets his jaw snap shut. "I don't want to think about this right now."

 

"Okay," Josh says softly, and his heart pangs because Tyler looks close to tears and this time, Josh is the one responsible. 

 

God, he's a monster.

 

"I'll just--I'll be here if you need me," and even as Tyler starts to nod he's already turning around and cursing his stupidity.

 

X

 

Tyler feels dirty.

 

That was the main thing. Once the guilt and the pain sort of passed, he just feels dirty--can still feel the man's grimy hands on him, pressing up under his ribs and fumbling with his jeans, can feel every mark he left on Tyler's body as if he was still there, breathing over him, leering over him, pressing a blade to Tyler's neck.

 

He shudders, curling in on himself. He wonders if the guy had an STD. If he should get himself tested.

 

He pulls out his phone and opens Safari. He needs to do some research.

 

X

 

Josh is on the couch, flipping between apps on his phone, when Tyler finally comes out of the back room. He looks kind of... haunted.

 

"Tyler...?" Josh tests out, slowly. "You okay?"

 

Tyler doesn't look at him, just continues to stare out at nothing as he begins to speak. "Eighteen percent."

 

Josh frowns. "What?"

 

"Eighteen percent. That's the percentage of rapes that are committed by strangers to the victim."

 

"Tyler, are you--"

 

"Nine percent of rape victims are men. Do you know what that means?"

 

"Tyler, I--"

 

"What happened to me makes up about one-point-eight percent of sexual assaults. Only one-point-eight percent of rapes are committed by strangers to a male victim. What did--what did I do? To make him want to be part of that one-point-eight percent? What did I..."

 

Josh is standing up now, approaching Tyler slowly. Something was really wrong, here. "It doesn't--it doesn't really work like that, Tyler."

 

" Yes, it does !" Tyler is suddenly screaming, and Josh jerks back. "This doesn't happen to guys, not like this, I... I  did something, something--something to ask for this. And I'm--Josh, I'm scared."

 

"Tyler, sweetheart--"

 

Tyler flinches. " Don't call me that ! Don't you  dare call me that, don't you....  he called me that, he said..." His eyes are fogged over, and Josh is deeply, deeply unsettled by this entire interaction. 

 

It's uncomfortable quiet for a beat before Tyler continues, voice eerily calm again. "One of every fifteen rape victims contract STDs from their assault."

 

Josh's eyes widen. "Tyler..." He reaches out for him, slowly, but his arm just sort of... hovers for a few moments, then falls.

 

Tyler's face crumples, and before Josh knows it, he's crying, wrapping his arms tightly around himself. "Josh, I still feel his hands on me, I can  feel  them, and I feel so--so dirty, but I don't know how to get him off me. Josh, how do I get him off me? How do I get him to stop touching me? And what if he--what if he has an STD, what if it's in me now, how do I get it out? How do I get him off of me?"

 

And Jesus, his best friend is having a breakdown right in front of him and Josh has never felt so helpless in his entire life. "Tyler, I--I don't know. I wish I did, God knows I do, but I just... don't. But I do know that it wasn't your fault. None of it was your fault. The world is just... cruel."

 

Tyler's staring at him with wide eyes, tears still welling up in the corners, and then he's suddenly in Josh's arms, his own bony arms curled softly around Josh's neck and tear-streaked face pressed into his shoulder. "Josh, I'm scared," he whispers, fingers gently curled at the nape of Josh's neck, and Josh is on the brink of tears himself.

 

"I'm sorry," is all he says, and wraps his arms around Tyler's waist.


End file.
